Men
are often held back by multiple, mental, critical voices that hijack our
reality. We think they are us, when really they are just one part of us. They
are not bad. In fact, they’re actually trying desperately to protect us and
keep us safe.
They
come online as we walk through the world, and come into contact with something
that reminds us, even a little, of the pain of disconnection, overwhelm, or
violation that occurred to us as children. They’re also some of the toughest
places for men to get out of, and what’s even tougher, is that we have to be
able to love ourselves through doing it.
Here are 5 ways they show
up.
The
Voice of Defend and Distract.
This
one is so tough to become aware of because it’s unconscious. It speaks and acts
before we even know what has happened. It seems to come from an inner
conviction that “I can’t be wrong or bad.” What may look or sound like
reasonable banter, sarcasm, name-dropping, or scoffing at other’s criticisms,
is actually a hijacking of shame and fear about our felt-sense of safety in the
world.
One
way to suspect if this is happening for you, is to ask yourself, “are people
more drawn to me, or intimidated by me? Are people, and especially women,
showing that they feel a sense of warmth and safety, or do they tend to keep
their distance?”
The
beauty of this voice is that it reflects a physical mastery and vigilance over
our environment, so we’re never caught off guard and we always have an answer.
The problem is, when we’re not in control of when, or why that vigilance and
defensiveness asserts itself, then it’s of no help in bringing us greater
connection, meaning and peace.
The
Voice of the Grass is Always Greener.
There
have been times in my life where I wanted something, but I couldn’t own that I
wanted it. What I did to cope, was take down the thing I was in—the
relationship or the job— by criticizing it, then fantasize about the thing I
wanted.
The
beauty of this voice is that it shows us what we want, or that’s other than
what we have. The problem with this voice is that it will never help us get
what we want, because all it knows is how to do is protect us, not take a risk
and go for the thing directly.
The
Voice of the Hyper-rational Justifier and Excuse-Maker
This
voice really believes our bullshit. It projects an arbitrary structure out onto
the world, so that we can come home at night and justify why we did or didn’t
get what we wanted. It writes a story that keeps us from feeling the heartbreak
of hurt or disappointment. We don’t enter the world in good faith—we set it up
so that we must always triumph or we must always fail.
The
beauty of this voice is a gorgeous rationality. The problem with this voice is
that rather than embodying the clarity and crispness of the healthy masculine,
it is fear masquerading as insight, brought to bare against lack of control and
meaning.
The
Voice of the Victim
This
voice sees the universe as conspiring against it. This is the voice that has
already written the tragedy, before the play is out of the first act. This
voice loves to reference and tabulate a lifetime of failure, in order to
protect oneself against the unpredictability of being in genuine, mutual
engagement with a world that is neither out to get us, nor out to favor
us.
The
beauty of this voice is that it brings us into direct awareness of our
‘petulant boy,’ and by simply seeing and recognising our tendency to embody
that, we can refrain. Like the hyper-rational justifier, this voice has an
inarguable rationality—the problem is that we end up actually defending our
right to be a victim, which is madness.
The
Voice of the Storyteller
In
a way, all of the critical voices are storytellers. One way to recognize we’re
in this voice in particular, is to notice simply that we are out of rapport
with the moment in our head, responding to things that already happened, or
fantasizing about how we’ll react to what might happen. Holding whole
conversations in our heads and ultimately, wrapping our embodiment around the
axle of the assumption that we are safer creating a story, whether it’s a
tragedy or a comedy, than we would be simply responding to the actual reality
in front of us.
This
is also the one always building a case in a relationship, or at work, about how
things are going to go, how they should go, how they always go, etc.
The
beauty of this voice is that it keeps us protected in a kind of fictional
predictability. The problem is that living in this fiction, means we’re much
less likely to grow as a human, or experience greater abundance from that which
we’ve become accustomed to.
How
to Soothe Your Critical Voices
It’s
first worth noting what does not work when it comes to soothing your critical
voices. First, refusing to become aware of which version we are embodying, and
then numbing out or blaming others when we feel out of control— this only fuels
them, never soothing them. The answer is also not simply to think a little
harder— it’s thinking that gets us out of rapport with a mutual universe.
Rather
than casting these voices and what they are saying as bad or good, it’s about
recognizing our relationship to it. Are we static and stuck in these places, or
is there fluidity?
Aim
for fluidity, not stuckness.
1.
Learn to name and claim the voice. The first step is
recognizing that we are hijacked and by which one.
2.
Learn to create space by direct energy away from the brain.
Remember: more thinking is not the answer.
3.
Direct the energy towards passions. Go for a run, do some yard
work, get out of your head and into your physicality.
4.
Get support from anybody who can see the more beautiful person
we are trying to become — a therapist, men’s group, etc.
If
you’re ready to dive deeper into untethering some of the threads that keep us
stuck in these voices, book a free connect call, I’d love to meet you.
Source: https://bit.ly/3b8Z9cr
About the author
Pieter Van
Winkle is a leadership coach and men’s group leader. He weaves a depth of
compassion, a natural style, and a host of somatic, relational and creative
technologies to guide men deeper into their truth, their soul, and their role
as fathers, leaders, artists and visionaries — in a time when many people
have given up on men.



No comments:
Post a Comment